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September 2011




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Sep. 2nd, 2011


I'm officially giving up

So, I'm starting to realize 2 things:

1. I have no one that I can share everything with completely.
2. I can't deal with everything going on right now. Some shit has gotta give.

I'm fairly certain no one will read this, and honestly, it's probably for the best. LJ is one of the few places I have that I can post and not have a giant audience, which is again for the best, as I'm starting to realize more and more that I can trust very few of the people around me.

I feel as if everyone has some hidden agenda around me, and that every piece of info I share, even information that is purely about myself and has nothing to do with anyone else is going to be shared or documented or used as ammunition against either myself or someone else. So I live in a state where I can't fully tell anyone anything, and instead have to tell lots of people tiny bits of things, and walk on egg shells around everyone, careful not to fuck up and have a TMI moment.

That being said. I'm reaching the breaking point. I seriously don't know how much more of this I can take. I keep trying to put things together and carry on, but everyone keeps dumping their burdens on me, and everyone else is becoming more and more unreliable and untrustworthy. And I'm expected to do absolutely everything myself, while still doing everything for everyone else, and it's just too damn much.

So, I'm finally going to give up on a lot of things. A lot of people. A lot of clubs and involvements. A lot of dreams as well, sadly enough. I can't do it all anymore.

I don't feel like a lot of what I'm doing matters. And I'm starting to feel more and more like what I'm doing is wrong for me, and not the best place I should be in. I'm not enjoying anything anymore. And it shouldn't be that way.

Writer's Block: Can't we all just get along?

What is one way to stop or prevent bullying?

How about not being a dick? How about that one?

Aug. 20th, 2011


Writer's Block: A literary masterpiece

Which books will you certainly read to your children, nieces, nephews or godchildren?
Oh. I will definitely read "Where the Sidewalk Ends" as well as all the other Shel Silverstein books. The "Ramona" series. "Amanda Brown" is probably up there. I'll have some "Encyclopedia Brown" time, because it's fun to figure those out (I still love the piss out of them negl). Oh. And "Go the Fuck to Sleep" when they're still too young to really understand it.

Jun. 8th, 2011


Writer's Block: Back in the day

Well, it's certainly not the chick in the question picture pointing and laughing at me.

Mar. 15th, 2011


Is this the beginnings of an obsessive compulsive disorder?

NoteThis contains pretty much TMI about me.

I wonder if I'm developing some sort of disorder.

I spent like an hour off and on the other day pulling hair off my belly, namely my belly button, and burning it. It didn't feel particularly enjoyable. And I didn't feel particularly inclined to do it... but I just did. It was an interesting sensation. Since I have my naval pierced I'm pretty sensitive in that area, so for the past 3 years I've had it I've been strangely fascinated with that area.

I've always had a strange obsession with burning things though. Like last night, I spent probably half an hour lying in bed thinking about what would happen if you put a spider in the microwave. Though, it should probably be noted that I had been playing Dragon Age 2 for about 4 hours before hand, and spent most of that time being attacked by a variety of fucking spiders (why there's so many spiders in this game is absolutely fucking beyond me.) But I was wondering if it would like... explode and spray web everywhere. Granted, That's not something that I'd like to see, but that's beyond the point.

In any event, I started wondering what would happen if I burned the follicle of my hair (which resulted from an earlier convo I had with someone about a strange desire I had to burn to burn my armpit hair... which I actually did the other night and it pretty much melted a bit, and that was about it. Luckily I didn't set myself on fire). So I found a pair of tweezers and since I have no desire to pull the hair out of my head, went for the belly button in between playing Dragon Age, texting and browsing the web (multitasking like a BOSS).

My folicle didn't really do anything special. Just melted like hair normally does. It was kind of disappointing. But I was bored and I just like burning things, so I went for it. (Which reminded me that I need to buy more belly bars... Ebay~).

I tried pulling hair off my arm, but that was just awful. I have a scab on my leg that's pretty grotty though, but there's hair growing through it (It should also be noted that I haven't shaved my legs since Halloween. Going natural like a BOSS). So I pulled one from there and set it on fire. Didn't really do anything. I had this strange desire that it would like, burn a different color and I'd be able to tell something cool about my body or diet or something, idfk.

But all in all, I don't really have a desire to pull hair... I just did for a lengthy time the other night. But after watching like a marathon of "Strange Addictions" or whatever the fuck that show is called, I'm paranoid about it. What if I suddenly snap and start pulling out patches of my hair everyday? Or eating pottery... or drinking laundry fluid or some shit (for serious it happened, watch that fucking show)?

Mar. 3rd, 2011


Writer's Block: Copy and paste

How would you react if you found out someone plagiarized your work and published it?

I think whipping ass is probably an understatement.

Feb. 3rd, 2011



My actual birthday was on February 1st, but that was the Snowpocalypse, so celebrating was just, not an option. I wound up braving the weather for all of 150 feet to walk to my friends apartment, eat an obnoxious amount of food, and spend several hours playing Mario Party and drinking games to Sherlock Holmes. It was a good time.

I actually got to celebrate on Wednesday by going out to Kobe Steak House, a Hibachi Grill with some of my best peeps, and it was a great time. I haven't laughed that hard in a good long while. Or really had an excuse to get cute for a good while. The food was over-priced, and honestly kinda plain, but it's cool beans, it was a cool show.

My first public legal drink was a Hurricane, which wasn't exactly what I ordered... or what I ordered at all... and had WAY too much rum in it. SO I'm just not gonna count that.

I'm like the last of a dying race amongst my friends. Most of them are already 21 or will be soon. It makes me kinda sad to think that we're all getting older. But at the same time, it's kind of cool to look back on my younger self. But at the same time I'm getting hit with the constant reminder that I'm getting old. I graduate college soon, and will be even more on my own than I am now, with needing to find my own apartment and get a car and all that.

It's a scary thought.

I no longer have to hide my booze in my apartment (I live on campus). And that's really what's important here. And now I can officially gamble, booze it up, and go to strip clubs. Preferably all in one night (... or at the same time because that'd be awesome)

Jan. 15th, 2011


Tonight I'm Fucking You

How have I never heard this song before?!

I can't wait to be able to out to a club and hear this, OMG.


Nov. 28th, 2010


I'm Running Out of Time

It's 4am.

I have a news story due two days ago that I haven't started writing, and a feature story due Monday that I haven't even began contacting sources for.

I hate this.

My need to get my ass in gear and not be indecisive is starting to affect me in all areas of my life. I was put on my sorority's Leadership Team, and while that sounds wonderful, it's starting to get to that time for us to start deciding when we're meeting, and I don't know what the fuck my schedule will be like next semester, since I'm going to have to change my classes again if I do decide to change my major.

All of this really means that I need to make another trip back down to Academic Advising, and hopefully see someone who will take me seriously and actually listen instead of pushing me off onto someone else.

Currently, I'm a journalism major. And while I think I'm a journalist at heart, I also think that that's not something I want to spend the rest of my life doing. I'm currently wrestling with the decision, and asking myself "Are you quitting your major because you aren't happy with it, or because it's too hard?" And I figure it's a combination thereof. It is hard, but normally, I don't mind doing difficult things if I'm passionate about them. However, I've lost that passion. And, I'm just not happy anymore. Honestly, I just feel like I'm not learning anything new, and the paper I'm working on is so dull and boring that I'm not producing any quality work, which all in all, is remarkably useless to me.

I'm worried, however, that if I do wind up switching majors, that I'm not going to have a chance to graduate in 2012, which is when I fully intend upon leaving college. I set out to do it in 4 years. If I can't do it in 4 years, there will be no end to my shame and disappointment. I'm thinking about switching to Media Communications, since it seems to aim more towards the field I'd like to be in, also, I should be able to keep a minor in Journalism, which is beneficial, since I currently don't have a minor.

Monday, I've decided, I'm going to at the very least call Academic Advising, and try and set up an appointment this week with someone to get me changed and registered and whatnot.  If I have time, I'll go in person, if the weather isn't too cold, that is.

Anyways, on a happier note, I did some small shopping this weekend. I finally relented and bought a new TV. It's a 16 inch HD LCD TV that I got for $139, which, personally, I think is quite a steal. I hadn't really splurged on myself in a long while, so I thought it'd be good to treat myself to something nifty. I think my next purchase is going to be a new cell phone, but that's a ways down the line.

Thanksgiving was... interesting to say the least. I got home and rushed into the back to realize that my father was gone. That was interesting. Hadn't really expected that. Turns out, he left and went to visit my grandparents (something I'd expressed wanting to do for many years) without me. Or hell, without even telling me. Or anyone as the case appears, as apparently Mom only found out when she came home and her stuff was dumped out of her suitcase.

Needless to say I was a little upset. Because, honestly, one of the main reasons I came home for the weekend was because of Dad. But oh well, shit happens. This Thanksgiving was pretty tolerable. Not too much silly drama and bickering. My sister annoyed me so much that wanted to strangle her from the backseat just to see if anyone would miss her, but oh well. You'd think I'd be used to her attention whoring by this point in time. But nope. Apparently not.

Nov. 17th, 2010


Why I treat my friends like family

So, me and Mom got into a fight on Saturday.

I'm still pissed about it.

Granted, in retrospect, the fight shouldn't have bothered me very much, since it's far from the first time that this has happened. But, it still bothers me, since, well, she's my mom.

Anyways, I guess I should go into a bit of detail. Me and Mom don't have anything resembling a good relationship. In fact, all we've ever done since I was old enough to voice my opinion is fight. And not because of my opinions, it's not that we disagree on things. It's more that Mom has decided it's cute to find every single reason possible to insult me. We don't bond. We can't have a normal conversation. In every single conversation we've had since about the second grade, is pretty much Mom making fun of me in some way, or blaming me for something that I 95% of the time have no involvement in, and me sitting there silently.

In any event, I moved over to my apartment from my dorm about 7 months ago, and my current bedroom is about half the size of my old one. SO, I called Mom 7 months ago and told her "hey, I need to send some stuff home" (Oh, I should probably add that Mom decided I can't have a room at home anymore, but screams at me for saying that I don't live there). Anyways, 7 fucking months go by before she finally agrees to come and pick up my shit.

So, we're trying to work out days that she can come, and I call her on Monday to say "Hey, can you come Saturday?" and I get this "I don't know, BLAH BLAH BLAH I have to fight with your siblings BLAH BLAH BLAH you're selfish BLAH BLAH selfish BLAH BLAH."

So, I ask her again the next day, and she still says she doesn't know. So I say "okay, let me know." She doesn't, so I pick up some extra hours at work to try and balance out the hours I'm going to be missing next week because of Thanksgiving break.

On Saturday, at 9am, I get a call from Mom as I'm about to get up and get ready for work and she's like "Get up, we're getting this over with early."

I inform her that I have to work until 2, and she bitches and I try and tell her "Uh, you were supposed to tell me..." but she bitches over me, and I ask if she can come after 2, and she says she doesn't know, and hang up on me.

So, I give her a call once I get off work, and she seems to be in a better mood and says she's leaving right now. She's about 35 minutes away, so I figure she'll be there around 2:40, 3 at the latest. Well, 3:15 roles around, and she's not there, so I call again, and turns out she hasn't left yet. Shocking.

It's close to 5 by the time she gets here, and she takes me to Wal Mart and the Gamestop across the parking lot, get home around 6, and she's starts yelling because I don't have anything packed up and ready to go and that my room is messy.

Let me mention that:
  • Mom KNEW my room was messy, and came by with the express purpose of helping me clean it
  • I didn't have anything to pack stuff in.
  • She didn't give me any notice that she was coming until right before I left for work, and I had no time to pack anything. Had she actually told me several days ahead of time, I would've started bagging things and setting things run.
  • She didn't do ANYTHING to help. She literally sat on my couch and chewed me out for 2 hours.

In any event, Dad, who showed up with her, and I wound up doing everything, and in the end, Mom stood up to leave, and attempted to end the conversation by saying something along the lines of "you're a disgusting human being and an embarrassment". And I just snap, and I tell her that she's wrong, and that she doesn't have a right to say anything, because she didn't help out, and just sat there. She responded by just chewing me out more, so I kicked her out, and locked the door behind her.

Realizing that she'd left one of my boxes behind that I was sending home, I go outside, only to hear her bitching about me to my Dad, completely lying about what I'd said, and by this point, I'm so upset I'm crying. She tells me that I deserve to cry, along with that I deserve all the shitty things that happen to me, and laughs at me, looks me in the eye and tells me that I deserve to cry. I tell her I'm crying because it's like I don't have a mother, and because she lacks the ability to love anything.

In any event, I wound up back in my apartment, which was still in shambles, sitting underneath my bed sobbing, and I couldn't calm down. So I send out a few texts, and my friends stealurgil and zack_fair_xd wound up picking me up, and listening to me bitch over some quality McDs, which was amazingly helpful. I'm bummed that I couldn't stay with them for a movie night, but I had to get back to teh apartment and clean, where one of my other friends wound up dropping by surprisingly, and helped me sort through the disaster area that is my room.

All in all, it made me realize that I have some of the world's most incredible people in my life, and that I shouldn't stress small things like this.

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